


encore

by liquify



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pornstars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:09:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29650434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liquify/pseuds/liquify
Summary: Being number onewasnice, Jaemin thinks, mouth quirking upwards. But he’d never minded being beneath Donghyuck, anyway, and vice versa — in more ways than one.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Na Jaemin
Kudos: 66





	encore

“Fuck,” Mark moans as Jaemin closes his mouth around the tip of his cock. He hollows his cheeks, knowing how he must look under the studio lights — hair mussed, cheeks wet, and lips swollen and red around Mark’s cock — and he works the shot for all its worth.

“Okay, good,” the director says, and the cameras move back. “Mark, how are you doing?”

Jaemin pulls off, wiping at his mouth, and Mark shivers noticeably. “Uh — good,” he says, eyes darting down to Jaemin’s mouth.

Jaemin winks at him. “Just good?”

“Really good,” Mark says hurriedly. “Like. Wow. I’d heard things, but…”

He shakes his head. “Yeah. Wow.”

“We’re ready for the final few shots if you guys are,” the director says. “Feel free to do whatever you want, guys — just remember, Mark, you’re coming in Jaemin’s mouth. And Jaemin, you can spit or swallow afterwards, as long as we get some good footage at the end, okay?”

“Sounds good,” Jaemin says cheerily, licking at his lips and relishing in the way Mark’s cock jumps next to his cheek. After almost an hour of heavy petting and buildup, it’s almost exciting to hear that they’ll _finally_ be shooting the money shots, even if he won’t be the one coming in the end.

“You can pull my hair if you want,” Jaemin says, placing one of Mark’s hands on his head and patting it lightly. “I don’t mind. Just do what you’re comfortable with.”

It’s not about him, after all. There’s a reason Jaemin gets chosen to break in all the newbies — he’s good at giving all he’s got, as generous and unselfish as they come. It’s the same reason why his videos all do spectacularly well — people like how sweet and caring he is, whether he’s the one doing the fucking or the one being fucked.

Mark nods soundlessly, cheeks a bright red. They wait for the telltale beep of the cameras, and when the director nods, Jaemin dives in with renewed energy, swallowing Mark down. It’s wide and heavy on his tongue, and he forces his throat to relax, sucking earnestly even as tears prick at his eyes.

He ignores his own cock, bobbing against the fabric of the skirt he’d been told to throw on before the shoot, and focuses on making Mark come. He isn’t known for giving the best blowjobs for _nothing_.

There’s a tug on his hair, and he turns his eyes upwards, watery and wide. When Mark starts to fuck his mouth in shallow thrusts, he rocks back on his heels and just — takes it. He’s a professional, he muses, mind pleasantly detached from the scene as Mark’s movements get faster, and rougher too, until his hips stutter revealingly.

The director gives the go-ahead off-screen, and Jaemin pulls off, opening his mouth and closing his eyes as Mark comes with a low grunt.

Most of it lands in his tongue, the bitter-salty fluid pleasantly familiar, and he cracks his eyes open slightly, giving the camera his best debauched, ruined-innocence look before he swallows it down.

“Cut!”

Mark has potential, Jaemin decides, licking at his lips satisfiedly. That was one _good_ shoot.

“Great work Mark, Jaemin, as always,” the director says. “Go get cleaned up, guys. We’re done for the day.”

“Damn,” Mark whistles, offering him a hand, and Jaemin takes it gratefully, muscles a little weak from kneeling for so long. “Now I see why you’re tied for number one. That was amazing.”

“Yeah?” Jaemin smiles, preening slightly at the words. “Thanks. It was nice working with you too.”

Someone darts up to them with towels, and Jaemin uses one to wipe at his face, wincing at the feeling of cum drying on his cheeks. He tugs his hoodie back on, and they make their way off set together, navigating easily past the cameras and lighting equipment. As far as scenes go, it was a fairly mild one — not much setup, just a couch and Jaemin sucking Mark off in a skirt, his own cock visible to the cameras as it leaked onto the fabric. There wasn’t much of a storyline — but then again, it was porn, Jaemin thinks, and laughs to himself. There’s never much of a storyline.

By the time they make it back to the changing rooms, he’s still half-hard, a fact that clearly doesn’t go unnoticed by the way Mark sends a meaningful glance downwards. “You want help taking care of that? I feel bad that you didn’t — you know. It’s the least I could do.”

“Oh,” Jaemin blinks, processing the offer. That was...surprisingly sweet. Mark _definitely_ had potential.

But still. Jaemin smiles embarrassedly. “I, um. That won’t be necessary.”

Mark’s eyebrows pinch together. “Are you sure? I really wouldn’t mind.”

The door to Jaemin’s room opens unceremoniously behind them.

“Thanks,” a voice says, deadpan. “But I’ll take care of it.”

Jaemin sees the way Mark’s expression shifts before he turns around, happiness buzzing through his veins as the familiar voice washes over him.

“You made it,” he breathes, eyes shining as he leans, half-consciously, into his direction.

Long-limbed and graceful, Donghyuck has one hand on the door and the other one dragging carelessly through his hair. “Mm,” he says, cocking an eyebrow, and Jaemin shivers, blood rushing south. “I did.”

Lee Donghyuck. The other number one, with his sun-kissed skin and wicked mouth, and a mean streak almost as wide as the toys he liked to use. He had something of a reputation, too — film with Donghyuck, and you were guaranteed some of the best but most frustrating orgasms of your life.

He was also mind-numbingly attractive, his heart-shaped lips the subject of far too many lewd shots. Between the two of them, they’d kept the crown of number one for almost two years, switching off whenever a newer video of the other dropped. As far as most fans were concerned, Donghyuck was allegedly Jaemin’s biggest rival in the industry.

Key word being _allegedly_.

Jaemin lets his eyes run over Donghyuck appreciatively, from his ripped jeans to the loose-fitting shirt he had on, white and just wide-necked enough for his collarbones to peek out. He looks, for all the matter, like he had just rolled out of bed, and in the best way too, hair curling ever so slightly around his ears. Jaemin wants to take him right back to that bed, and — well.

Being number one _was_ nice, he thinks, mouth quirking upwards. But he’d never minded being beneath Donghyuck, anyway, and vice versa — in more ways than one. And with the number of times they’d shown up to each other’s shoots, it was sort of an open secret in the industry that they couldn’t care less about trading places on the charts.

“Donghyuck,” Mark says, surprised and just a little awestruck. “I didn’t know you were shooting today.”

Except for Mark, Jaemin realizes suddenly. Sweet, innocent Mark, who had just started a few weeks ago, and didn’t know that the rumors of them feuding couldn’t be further from the truth — that the real reason why they’d never released anything together was because they could barely get through a written script without breaking character.

Not that they hadn’t tried. It’s not Jaemin’s fault Donghyuck makes him...forget about the cameras.

“I’m not,” Donghyuck says, smirking. He circles a hand around Jaemin’s wrist and tugs, and Mark’s mouth clacks shut as his eyes grow wide. “C’mere.”

Jaemin goes. Donghyuck is magnetic, he thinks, and Jaemin is very, very attracted.

“Sorry to cut in,” Donghyuck says, not sounding sorry at all. He pats at Jaemin’s skirt. “But I’m gonna have to steal Jaemin away.”

“Wait,” Mark says, eyes flitting in between the two of them rapidly. “Does that mean — are you two —”

“Bye, Mark,” Donghyuck says, and Jaemin echoes it weakly as the door closes on Mark’s surprised face.

There’s a second of stillness, when Donghyuck is locking the door. It’s almost long enough for Jaemin to catch his breath, any thoughts of Mark rapidly fleeing from his mind, and his hands smooth at his skirt in anticipation, heart pounding in his chest.

He really doesn’t have to wait long. As soon as the telltale click of the lock sounds, Donghyuck is crowding him against a wall, mouth hot and wet on his skin as he rips open a pack of lube.

“Hey, baby,” he murmurs, nipping at his neck, and Jaemin moans, long and drawn out when his hands crawl up his skirt. “Missed me?”

“Always,” Jaemin gasps out, as Donghyuck cups his cock firmly, fingers stroking over the base. Heat pools in his stomach, the slide of Donghyuck’s fingers smooth and familiar as they work over his length. “Oh, god, Hyuck — I’m not gonna last.”

“Then don’t,” Donghyuck says lowly, gripping his cock and jerking his hand up and down. It’s tortuously good, and Jaemin gasps, burying his head in Donghyuck’s shoulder. It won’t take much, he thinks, having been wound up for most of the past hour, and Donghyuck’s hands are _perfect_ , sparks of pleasure lighting up his nerve endings with each drag.

“Was he good?” Donghyuck asks, hands tightening, and Jaemin has to work to pull thoughts from the sticky swirl of pleasure in his mind to remember who he’s even talking about.

“It was fine,” Jaemin says, voice muffled slightly by the fabric of his shirt. “He was cute. Nervous. You know.”

It’s hard to form sentences longer than three words when your boyfriend has his hands up your skirt, Jaemin thinks, and then Donghyuck does something wonderful with his hands, and his head goes blank.

“God,” he moans, feeling his brain turn into mush. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Donghyuck says amusedly. “Good, then?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin sighs. “Better than good. You’re — that’s amazing.”

Donghyuck hums, pausing slightly to push his skirt up, and then —

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jaemin keens, when Donghyuck’s other hand touches lightly at his rim.

He feels Donghyuck’s laugh before he hears it, shoulders shaking slightly as his hands keep up the work. “Already?” He asks, pressing a kiss to the top of Jaemin’s head. “Not here, okay? Maybe when we get home.”

“Yeah,” Jaemin gasps, head spinning with pleasure. “Yeah — okay. Please. Let’s do that.”

He’s _so_ hard. It doesn’t help that Donghyuck knows exactly how he likes to be touched, hands steady with the kind of confidence that comes after years of practice. It’s softness and intimacy, in the exact way filming isn’t — just the two of them, pressed against the wall of the changing room, with Donghyuck pressing soothing kisses against his neck as he makes him fall apart in his hands, skirt rucked up around his hips and making him feel like they’re back in school, stealing kisses underneath the bleachers and fucking in the corner of empty stairwells.

Despite his words, Donghyuck doesn’t let up on the pressure at his hole, either, finger stroking teasingly at the very edge of his rim. He does everything _but_ press one in, though, and the third time he rests his finger directly on his hole without actually doing anything else, Jaemin groans in frustration, caught between the urge to thrust forward into Donghyuck’s grip and back onto his fingers.

He can feel Donghyuck’s cock through the outline of his jeans, too, pressed up against his thigh, hot and heavy and doubtlessly _hard_. He wants it in him, he thinks, dizzy with the thought — the burn of the stretch as Donghyuck pushed in, the way it would catch on his rim and rub against his walls, making him feel so, so full.

It’s not the time, though — as much as he wants Donghyuck to fuck him, they’ve long since learned that the changing room really isn’t the most comfortable place to do it — so Jaemin settles for rutting against him, hips rocking forward and into Donghyuck’s hold. “Hyuck,” he whimpers, rutting against him, and feels Donghyuck shudder against him in response. “Don’t tease.”

“Okay,” Donghyuck whispers, and then the fingers around his rim disappear. Jaemin mourns their loss for a few seconds, before he feels them pressing around his cock, and he jolts, a familiar feeling starts to build in his lower stomach.

“Close?” Donghyuck asks, and when Jaemin jerks his head in a wordless nod, he quickens his movements, forcing little whimpers out of Jaemin’s mouth with each tug. His palm, too, is flat and relentless, rubbing circles into the tip as he flicks his wrist. It’s just the right amount of friction — hot and wet and almost _too_ good, and Jaemin squeezes his eyes shut, mouth open and panting as his feelings threaten to overwhelm him.

“It must’ve been hard, holding it for so long,” Donghyuck murmurs, voice soft and honey-sweet against Jaemin’s ears. “Good thing I’m here, hm? Come on, baby, come for me.”

That’s really all it takes.

The next time Donghyuck flattens his hands, tapping a finger against the tip, Jaemin cries and — comes. Just like that. His hips jerk upwards helplessly as pleasure washes over him, and Donghyuck pumps him through his orgasm, other hand pulling him in closer and steadying him against the wall so he doesn’t just slide down from how hard his legs are trembling.

“Six minutes,” Donghyuck says, a curl of fondness in his voice. “I’m that good, huh?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jaemin says weakly, still recovering from the glow of his orgasm. “Like I haven’t gotten you off in less.”

“I guess we’re just both good,” Donghyuck says breezily, but his gaze is watchful, hands steady against him, and he doesn’t relax until Jaemin gives him a little nod, nudging him forward and off of the wall.

It’s ridiculous how fast Donghyuck can make him come, Jaemin thinks — _ridiculous_ how much they affect each other. Even now, not one minute after he’d just come, Donghyuck just has to look at him, eyes dark and molten, for his cock to twitch pitifully in interest.

“So pretty,” Donghyuck murmurs, tilting his head up to kiss him, and Jaemin meets him halfway, lips sliding together as Donghyuck loosens his grip on his cock, pinching his thigh playfully as he wipes his hand on the skirt.

“Hey,” Jaemin complains weakly, batting at Donghyuck. “You know we have towels.”

“You came all over it anyway,” Donghyuck laughs, ducking to avoid Jaemin’s slap.

“And whose fault is that?” Jaemin mutters, cheeks warm. “ _I’ll take care of it_. Couldn’t even wait until Mark went in his own room.” 

Donghyuck pouts, hands tightening around him. “You heard him. He offered to help, didn’t he?” His mouth twists unhappily. “As if.”

“You jealous baby,” Jaemin says lovingly — kisses him again, until their breaths mingle together, soft and wet and electrifyingly sweet. “I wouldn’t have said yes anyway.”

“Yeah, but you would’ve jerked off _thinking_ about me instead of _being_ with me, and that’d be such a fucking shame,” Donghyuck grins. “And I wouldn’t have gotten to see the look on Mark’s face when he realized.”

“You’re evil,” Jaemin says, a soft smile playing at his lips. “Don’t think I don’t know what you were trying to do. I’ve seen your schedule for next week, baby.”

They’d gone ahead and shared their calendars with each other when they’d first started. It’s mostly out of convenience — knowing which days they had to film helped with knowing which days they could or couldn’t leave marks, or when the other person would be more receptive to...certain activities.

Once, Donghyuck had fisted him within an inch of his life, less than twelve hours before he’d been scheduled for a threesome, because they were young and stupid and too horny to factor in the logistics of Jaemin’s ass.

To his credit, the director had taken one look at him and shaken his head, before telling him to go home. “We’ll swap you out with someone,” he’d said amusedly. “Come back Friday. And tell Donghyuck to go easier on you, will you?”

So now they have each other’s calendars on their phones, which is how Jaemin knows that even though Donghyuck hasn’t mentioned it yet, he has an appointment next Wednesday that starts with an _M_ and ends with _ark_.

Donghyuck might not mind the rankings, but he has a competitive streak a mile wide, Jaemin thinks wryly, something that’s only intensified whenever they film with the same person within the same time frame. It’s almost cute, how he’d come a whole week in advance just to scope out the so-called competition.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Donghyuck says slyly. His fingers play at the band of his skirt. “Come on, up.”

Jaemin lifts his hips obediently, and Donghyuck tugs at the zipper, sliding the skirt off. He cradles Jaemin’s face afterwards, giving him one last open-mouthed kiss and lingering reluctantly against Jaemin’s mouth before pulling back. “Get dressed so we can go home and fuck.”

“You’re so romantic,” Jaemin snorts, pulling his underwear and sweatpants on.

“So we can have sex,” Donghyuck sings. He shrugs his jacket on, grabbing Jaemin’s from the chair, too, and holding it out for him. When they’re both done, he unlocks the door, taking Jaemin’s hand and skipping out into the hallway. “So we can _make love~”_

“You menace,” Jaemin says, laughing as he drags Donghyuck out of the building. “You’re way too cocky for eleven in the morning.”

Donghyuck blinks at him, as infuriatingly beautiful as always. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

The sun winks down at them. It really is a lovely day, Jaemin thinks. Too bad they’ll be spending the rest of it inside.

“Oh, I have a few ideas,” Jaemin says, smile curling across his face. “I hope you don’t have any plans.”

“Hmm,” Donghyuck hums, pausing to entertain the thought. It only lasts about three seconds, before he shrugs and shakes his head. “Nope. All yours.”

Jaemin’s eyes soften. “Good,” he murmurs, leaning forward to kiss Donghyuck square on the mouth. “Let’s go home.”

**Author's Note:**

> why is nahyuck so criminally underrated...one of the world's biggest unsolved mysteries...


End file.
